


all I ever wanted was the world

by defcontwo



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defcontwo/pseuds/defcontwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heroes and villains who do the nasty, what an embarrassing cliché, how did this even become her life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	all I ever wanted was the world

**Author's Note:**

> an extremely necessary post-Hawkeye Annual fic.

Kate’s not entirely sure whether or not she’s gone horribly wrong in her life when she can’t decide whether she wants to fuck someone or put them in a high security prison so they don’t kill any more people. 

Probably horribly, _horribly_ wrong. 

Mostly she wants to put her head through a wall because heroes and villains who do the nasty, what an embarrassing cliché, how did this even become her life? 

Sometimes Kate wonders if this is just a Hawkeye thing, if the fuckton of emotional baggage and terrible relationship choices just comes with the name. She wonders if Madame Masque will be her Black Widow, only super evil and less ginger, but then she gets distracted for a full ten minutes thinking about making out with the Black Widow and - well. 

This is getting her nowhere. 

\+ 

Here’s the thing. 

Liking girls took her a shamefully long amount of time to work out. That sort of attraction, that lingering closeness with several girls she’s known over the years - she’d been feeling it her whole life, she’d just always figured it was friendship because despite her high SAT scores, Kate realizes she can be kind of a moron. 

When she was fourteen years old, one of her best friends had come out to her as bisexual in nervous whispers in the back of the classroom during study hall period, and she had looked at him and smiled reassuringly and thought _good for him_ , and yet the dots remained unconnected in her own life. 

See: moron. 

She knows now that what she felt for Cassie had been a whole lot like love, the closest to real romantic love that she’s ever gotten in her life, and that realization is still a wound in her heart that she doesn’t think will ever heal. They’ll always be caught in the spaces of what if and what could have been, and sometimes when she thinks about it too hard, Kate hates herself a little for her crappy timing. 

How she feels about Madame Masque is in a completely different universe from how she felt, will always feel, about Cassie. 

She doesn’t love Whitney Frost but she definitely wants to see her naked. 

\+ 

“Chica, you’ve got the worst priorities of anyone I know,” America says, dipping a curly fry into some ketchup and mayo, and then gesturing with it at Kate. 

The fact that America thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to dip fries into mayo is seriously gross, and Kate will never stop telling her so. 

They’re in a diner in LA in their own universe for a change because they’re all pretty sick and tired of dimension hopping, thanks, but they’re still not sick of diner food. 

Kate has just unloaded the whole sorry tale in between bites of a Denver omelet and a side order of hashed browns, and she’s probably shot to hell any chance she ever could have had with her stupidly beautiful teammate while she’s at it, but it’s not like dating multiple teammates ever worked out for Clint. 

She’s just saved herself a few divorces and a future alone moping into children’s cereal. Hawkeye crisis averted, point for Katherine Bishop. 

Kate sets her coke down with a splash. “ _Loki._ ”

America raises an eyebrow. “I stand by what I said.” 

Kate lowers her head onto the table with a thud. “What am I doing with my life?”

America laughs at her, the traitor. “Just don’t go around sleeping with any crazy criminals and you’ll be just fine, princess.” 

It’s good advice, Kate thinks to herself. Not anything that she didn’t already know but it’s not like it should be that hard to actually stick to it. 

\+ 

It’s actually surprisingly hard to stick to America’s advice, Kate realizes, with the top half of her uniform lying in a pool somewhere around her ankles, and Whitney’s tongue doing some very interesting things that Kate would really like to learn how to do. 

“Is this, like - is this a new supervillain move,” Kate gasps out, trying very hard to hold onto her composure and failing miserably. “Incapacitating Avengers one talented tongue at a time because _oh fuck, shit, right there_.” 

Whitney pulls away and Kate can see the older woman glaring up at her but she’s too busy groaning in frustration to care. 

“I really hate you, you know,” Whitney says, biting at the inside of Kate’s thigh. 

“And yet, here we are,” Kate says. “If there’s a plan here, I think it backfired on you.” 

“You’re intriguing,” Whitney says, humming against Kate in a way that makes her toes curl a whole lot. “I want to figure out what makes you tick before I kill you, Hawkeye.”

“Good luck with that because most of the time, I feel like I don’t even know that - _holy fuck_ ,” Kate says and she is so so screwed on multiple levels here but her breath is coming out in short, stuttered gasps and inexperienced fumbling is one thing, but this is a whole different ballpark. Ballgame? 

Fuck, she’s never understood sports metaphors and she’s not about to now. 

Her vision starts to blur but she doesn’t miss the triumphant smirk lingering at the edges of Whitney’s lips, and she can only hope that Whitney is no closer to figuring her out because she’s not gonna be anything resembling combat ready anytime soon. 

She is so, _so_ screwed.

\+ 

The next day, she tells America and America laughs for a full five minutes before catching her breath, pushing her curly hair out of her eyes, and then laughing all over again. 

Goddamn traitor. 

\+ 

What Kate doesn’t expect is how it keeps happening. 

She has sex with Whitney in a coat closet during one of her father’s galas, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere Canada while Kate’s on a mission with her team, in a back alleyway in LA when all she can think is how fucked up her knees are getting pressed into the dirty concrete, and once, on a freaking spaceship. 

It’s a weird sort of relationship where they don’t actually say anything nice to each other but they have a whole lot of fun tearing each other’s clothes off. Whitney keeps saying something about death and destruction and revenge and Kate keeps snarking back and it pretty much just keeps carrying on that way. 

And it’s not that Kate doesn’t take it seriously because she does. She knows that Whitney Frost is a dangerous woman who has resources at her disposal that can and do scare the shit out of Kate. 

But it’s a little hard to believe death threats coming from a woman when you’ve got two fingers scissored inside of her and she starts screaming your name in the next breath. 

It’s when Whitney admits to her, quiet and close, that Whitney Frost isn’t her real name at all when Kate realizes how firmly off the deep end they’ve both gone. 

_Danger, Will Robinson,_ Kate thinks, internally cursing herself, _you have seriously fucked up here_. 

\+ 

Kate leaves Whitney behind and flies halfway across the world, back to Clint and Brooklyn and a ratty apartment that once felt like home. 

She lets herself in using her old key and drops her duffle bag onto the floor in the foyer. 

She finds Clint sitting right about where she left him - slumped at his kitchen counter, looking considerably less miserable than the last time she saw him, and nursing a beer. 

“How’s it hanging, Katie-Kate?” Clint asks and there’s an edge there - he’s pissed at her but the look on his face says that he’s well on his way to forgiveness. 

“I’ve fallen into a complicated sexual relationship with a supervillainess,” Kate says baldly, like ripping off a band-aid. 

Clint stares for about half a second and then shrugs. “Yeah, I’ve been there. Want a beer?” 

Kate hops up onto a barstool at the counter and reaches for the bottle opener. 

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” 

+

Sexy supervillainesses: 2, Hawkeyes: zero.


End file.
